The Trials of Destiny
by Isodriel
Summary: The Powers That Be decide to put Angel, Cordelia, Spike and Buffy on a series of trials to face and fight their alternate selves, leading them to journey through strange and twisted worlds. Will they survive their greatest challenge yet? (CHP. 3 UP)
1. Chapter I: A Fateful Dinner Party

**Summary: **The Trials of Destiny revolves mainly around Angel, Cordelia, Buffy and Spike, who are sent on a series of trials by the Powers That Be to fight their alternate selves: other versions of them created in other worlds. If they win, and manage to save the worlds of their alternate selves from whatever plight has befallen them, they get to go home scot-free. But if they lose... Well, it wouldn't be pretty. So, two vampires, a seer and the slayer have to work their way through alternate worlds where just about anything could be waiting to jump out at them, and act as rescuers and escorts for their "trial consorts": the lovers they would've had in another life (not mentioning any names...) while the Scoobies and the Fangers have to hold down the forts in Sunnydale and LA against the forces of darkness – because, to put it delicately: "When the cat's away, the rats come out to play..." 

Besides the obvious love/hate conflicts, bonding, brooding and witty conversation, there'll be demons, dragons, magick, danger, challenges and a whole lot of slayage going on here, people. 

**Author's Note: **Following the Prologue of this fic will be an introductory chapter establishing the lives of the characters so far (mainly Angel and Cordelia, but also Buffy, Spike and all the rest of the Sunnydale Scoobies and LA Fang Gang) before the storyline actually takes off. Hopefully, the chapters following the introductory one will be posted within a week of each other. 

**Original Characters: **There are going to be a handful of original characters in this fic: partly to add spice to the story, and partly to fill in the gaps when it comes to existing relationships. Only one or two of the original characters (OFCs) are important, though; the rest are only temporary. 

**Rating: **PG-13, mainly just to scare off any younger children: there's only mild swearing and some violence, but not enough to get it R-rated. Somehow, I just can't bring myself to write anything I wouldn't want to read myself. 

**Length: **I tend to write long chapters mainly because I'm a detailoholic, but hopefully the story won't be too slow-moving. Each chapter should be about two to three pages long (written in single-spaced Verdana point size 8) and should take about fifteen minutes tops to read. 

**Reviews: **More than welcome, but I'm not going to depend on them. I write because I love to write, not for reviews. Still, an honest opinion is always welcome on my review board. 

~ ¤ ~

~ The Trials of Destiny ~

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

**Prologue: _The Powers Make a Decision_**

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

**The Halls of Eternity,**

**Realm of the Powers that Be**

Nemesis, Goddess of the Living Realms and Guardian of the Gates of Time, had never been upset or even ruffled by anything in her seven hundred thousand years of life. And certainly, she was not ruffled now, although her brow was furrowed ever so slightly and she held her golden staff tighter than usual. The staff was long and intricately carved, set with a shining crystal-like opal that radiated an aura stronger than anything on Earth. Nemesis herself inhabited a human form, which she was free to change at will, although she was far more than human – an ageless, immortal being, created only to do the bidding of the Powers That Be. 

She stood in the great, echoing ivory chambers of the Hall of Eternity, called there by the Powers themselves. She had long ago known that there was something massive brewing among the living worlds, but she hadn't been able to point it out – it was neither demon nor shadow creature, and unlike anything she had ever seen before. 

She bowed her head slightly to the Powers before facing them, her iridescent eyes mildly troubled but still as calm as ever. "Why have I been called here?" Her masters understood her thoughts instantly: there was no need for speech in the Halls, and yet Nemesis could not help using the human mouth given to her. 

**_"Guardian, there is something disturbing the peace of the worlds. You have long felt it."_**

Nemesis nodded. "Yes. It is new to me, and new to the living worlds. I do not know it, and cannot name it. But I have felt it." 

**"We have long known that the fate of the Chosen One, the one the Earthlings call the Slayer, has taken new and unexpected turns. First the breaking of the bond she shared with the Angelic One, then the birth of the Key, and many more that we have watched her go through. And the Angelic One, also, has come to face many challenges, including the return of his son and the disappearance and return of his Seer." **

Nemesis felt the Powers hesitate, and realized that if they could have sighed, they would.

**_"But, unknown to them and to us, their many choices and mistakes have created a thousand alternate worlds revolving only around their lives. These worlds hold alternate forms of them, and each alternate form is as strong as the next. We fear, indeed, that they are stronger than the originals." _**

**_"Strong enough, perhaps, to replace them."_**      

It took a while for Nemesis to respond to this startling news and what it might mean. She drew an unneeded breath and gripped her staff. "But the Slayer and the Angelic One... They are the only ones truly suppressing the evil on Earth. How can they be replaced?"  

**"When they were together, their bond could have held all evil at bay. But now that it is not so, we fear that they  have weakened. We will give them a trial, and let them face each of their alternate forms in turn. If they can fight them and win, then all is right. But if not..."**

"They will be replaced," Nemesis said quietly. 

**_"Yes. We will bring their alternate consorts, also, and see if their love for their current consorts truly is as strong as they seem to think it is."_**

Nemesis nodded again. "I will gather them before the next moon rises on Earth." She inclined her head to the Powers, raised her staff and disappeared silently and swiftly.

~ ¤ ~

~ The Trials of Destiny ~

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

**Chapter I: _A Fateful Dinner Party _**

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

**Rosetta Apartment Buildings,**

**Los Angeles, CA **

Connor ran a hand over the luxurious leather sofa before sitting on it and leaning back into the soft leathery cushions, feeling them massage his back. "This," he stated firmly, "is probably the best sofa in all of Los Angeles." 

Angel came out of the brand new all-equipped kitchen and grinned at his son before flopping down next to him. "I agree," he said, with a contented sigh. He reached for the remote control to the wide screen TV situated across from the sofa, but Connor was faster and grabbed the remote a second before his father did. He grinned triumphantly and flicked the TV onto the sports channel, where a football match was in full swing. 

Cordelia Chase entered the living room only ten minutes later to find both of them glued to the screen, a half-empty bag of crisps lying forgotten on the sofa between them. She smiled to herself and shook her head, dumping her five bulging shopping bags onto the floor before perching lightly on the sofa arm. 

"So, _this _is how you plan to fight evil? By proving that it's possible to go from vicious creatures of the night to couch potatoes in less than two months?" She said, a teasing smile on her face. 

Angel looked up, one eyebrow arched. "And where have you been all morning? Raiding the inside of Neiman Marcus, I take it?"

Cordelia smoothed back her ear-length hair, once again a sleek dark brown – after returning to Earth, she had lost her blond coloring and her natural hair color had returned, and she had ultimately decided to keep it that way. "For your information, I haven't _only _been shopping for myself." She rummaged among the bags and drew out two bags from among the pile, exhibiting them proudly. "I bought you guys some things too, since I figured you'd need something to fill up those new wardrobes of yours." She had been thrilled when Angel had decided to rent one of the gorgeous Rosetta Apartments she had recommended for him and Connor, and she wasn't above going back to her old shopping habits just to get them some decent clothes to match their new status as owners of a beautiful, spacious new apartment. Ever since the Powers That Be had granted her back her mortality, she had done everything in her power to bring Angel and his son closer together, and it seemed to be working – especially since the Powers were richly providing for the whole Fang Gang as a return favor for Cordelia's services (no one in the gang except Cordelia knew exactly what those services were, but they all knew better than to ask). 

"Oh, and I've invited Curtis from next door over for dinner," Cordelia said casually. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind, since it _was _mostly thanks to him that we got hold of this place." Curtis Parker, the successful adventurer slash explorer and part-time demon hunter, was the one who had helped Cordelia get hold of the apartment for Angel and had even helped lower the rent on her behalf. They were old friends from high school, and although Angel and Curtis had never met, Cordelia was sure they would get along fine; of course, Curtis didn't know that Angel and Connor were both vampires, but Cordelia saw no need to disclose that information quite so soon.

"I think he's bringing his daughter over as well," she added, sorting through the clothes she had purchased for herself with a sort of smug pride. _I haven't lost my touch, even after all this time_, she thought happily. Cordelia might have undergone a lot of changes in the last two or three years, but she was still the same old Cordelia, to some extent. 

Angel just nodded, knowing that whomever Cordelia considered a friend was his friend as well, but Connor scowled. He was still getting used to living with his father – they had only moved into the apartment two days ago – and although he had come accept and even like Cordelia, Wesley, Fred and Gunn, he still had trouble facing strangers. Especially female strangers, since they were almost alien to him. Two months in LA had taught him a lot, but he still had a lot to learn; the traces of Justine and Holtz were still etched in his memory, and it would take long time for him to deal with everything that had happened in the past sixteen years of his life, especially during the last couple of months.

"And since I was at it, I decided to invite Fred, Gunn and Wesley-" Cordelia saw Angel twitch slightly at the mention of Wesley's name "-since they've been wanting to see the apartment and it would be the perfect occasion for all of us to get together." She beamed at them, trying to force away the little current of worry that formed when Angel turned and stared at the TV, face deadpan. He knew now that Wesley hadn't meant to hurt him or Connor when he had unintentionally aided Holtz in Connor's kidnapping as a baby, but it was taking him a lot of patience to forgive Wesley, and even more patience to try to act normally around him. It was hard, acting as if nothing had ever happened, but somehow or other he managed to be civilized to Wesley whenever they met.    

~ ¤ ~

Two hours later, Fred and Gunn arrived at the apartment. Connor answered the door, a scowl on his face; he was wearing a new outfit Cordelia had picked out for him, a deep crimson shirt over black jeans and a black vest to match. Although he knew he should be grateful to Cordelia, it had taken over an hour for her to find a perfect outfit, and he had had to change about twelve times before she could decide on the right one. "I want you to look _special,_" she had said pointedly. 

Gunn grinned at his outfit and ruffled his hair on his way in while Fred carefully placed an antique vase she had been carrying on the living room coffee table. "Housewarming gift," she explained shyly, smiling. Cordelia, who had arrived early, had dressed to kill in a leopard-print V-necked blouse and black skirt. She looked very much like her old self as she greeted Fred and Gunn and declared the vase to be "the perfect apartment accessory", which earned her a warm smile on Fred's part. 

Wesley was the next to arrive, and he was greeted by friendliness by everyone, even if Angel's smile seemed a little forced. 

There was an animated football discussion going on in the living room – with Fred and Cordelia listening in amused interest – when the doorbell rang for a third time. 

"_Curtis!_ Great to see you! Here, come in, both of you," everyone in the living room heard her say. Gunn looked a question at Angel, who shrugged. "A friend of Cordelia's," he said simply.  

Curtis turned out be a mildly handsome man of thirty-five or so, with a very average appearance; light brown hair, pale blue eyes and intelligent, clean-cut face. He smiled at them and shook hands amiably, not in the least nervous or even uncomfortable. His daughter, though, was a different story. She stood apart from her father, arms crossed, surveying everything with a coldly uninterested air. Her appearance was striking; waist-length silky raven hair, so black it shone blue in the lamplight, tied back in a tight braid from an attractive face that held her father's intelligence and a great amount of fierceness; deep sapphire-blue eyes; warm golden-tinted skin and a full mouth currently drawn in a tight line. Unlike her father, who was dressed in a very simple ensemble of green and gray, she wore black leather pants, black boots and a short black leather jacket over a slightly tightened white T-shirt. 

"And you must be _Senora_," Cordelia said warmly, pronouncing the name with a flourish. The girl gazed at her steadily, still in the same cool manner. "It's _Su-no-rah_. As in So-no-ra Parker." She made it sound like she was explaining it to a little child, although she mustered a tight smile at Cordelia before looking away. 

~ ¤ ~

After some moderately awkward small talk, which Connor and Sonora excluded themselves from completely, they all sat down at the dining room table to eat. Cordelia had ordered in food from Valentino's, and she displayed it very elegantly on silver platters with a few candles lit in the antique silver candleholders Angel had brought with him from his mansion in Sunnydale. 

Connor poked at his meager portions with a fork, not feeling much like eating. He felt uncomfortable, somehow, and decided to listen to the others' conversation rather than join in. Currently, the conversation was tuned on demon-hunting. 

"I've been doing it for a while now," Curtis explained to Wesley, who was asking most of the questions, being fascinated by any kind of demon-connected information. "I started traveling with my wife, and exploring came naturally, so I made a career out of it." 

"And the hunting?" Wesley prompted. Curtis' face darkened momentarily, then he smiled sadly. "My wife was killed by a Rasselu demon in Egypt," he explained, in a quiet voice. "I decided to keep others from meeting the same fate, so I started searching for demons and slaying them whenever I could. Sonora used to stay with my sister – her aunt - during my travels, but she's been coming with me for about three years now."

"And what weapons do you usually use?" Wesley asked, oblivious to the way Cordelia was grinning sideways at him. _Wesley never could stay away from the demon-stories. _

"We-ell," Curtis said slowly, smiling at Sonora, "maybe you should talk to my daughter about that." 

Wesley raised an eyebrow in Sonora's direction. "Really? And do you actually use the weapons, Sonora?" He was trying to sound nice, but only ended up sounding patronizing.     

Sonora shrugged. "Sometimes. It depends on the demon, really – for the fire-demons, a standard ice potion does well, if you throw it at the correct weak point; earth demons, of course, don't stand a chance against any decent mahogany thirty-inch crossbow; and for your standard shadow-demon there's always a broadsword, preferably a nineteenth-century Vivaldi. But _this_ is my all-time favorite against any demon." And, in saying so, she drew out a sleek silver handgun out of a holster hidden inside her leather jacket. It had a very strange, otherworldly design to it, and seemed to be made to fit her hand. "Silverwolf, 2021 model. It's made of a solid titanium-silver alloy, with bullets half made of the same alloy and half wooden, so as to be able to slay any vampire as well as demon." She gave a tiny smile at Wesley's obviously surprised face. "Never missed a single shot with this baby." She then calmly slid the gun back into its holster, bent over her food and began to eat steadily with an air of indifference. 

It took a lot to impress Connor, but he felt a sneaking admiration for Sonora's knowledge of weapons. Still, he didn't like her cold arrogance, and decided to put her in her place. 

"Have you ever _actually_ used any of those weapons on a demon?" He asked suddenly. Sonora, caught off guard, could only stare at him. Then she glared. "Excuse me?" 

"Well, you seem to know a lot about them, but have you ever _used _them?" Connor insisted, knowing that his eyes were probably glittering at the haughty expression on Sonora's face. 

"Madrid, Carcara demon, silver dagger through the head. Brazil, Unbengi serpent, sword through the abdomen. Paris, hybrid vampire-demons, arrows through the heart." She tossed her head, blue eyes flashing. "Los Angeles, human boy, _fork through the eye._" 

Now it was Connor's turn to glare. "Was that a threat?" 

Serena met the glare squarely. "No. It was a statement." By now, everyone else at the table had turned silent. 

"Making _statements _about people might just get you hurt, you know," Connor warned. 

"I wasn't talking about a person. I was talking about _you_." Sonora was standing up now. 

"Really? Are you going to do anything other than _talk _about it?" Connor stood up too, hands on the table. 

"I might just do that. But then again, I wouldn't want to get the table all messy." 

"It _is _already messy. Your hands are on it."  

Something in Sonora's face suddenly changed, and it took Connor a while to realize that a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. She held it back for about a minute, before it broke free, along with a clear, silvery laugh.

"What?" Connor demanded, although his anger had dissolved by now. "What's so funny?" 

"You – you have sauce on your nose," Sonora gasped out, before breaking into another laugh. Connor grinned furtively before wiping the smudge off with a napkin. Angel, who had been watching tensely, wondering if Connor's temper would run away with him, relaxed visibly; he had almost been worried it would come to blows, but realized now that neither Sonora nor Connor had actually been very angry. 

_Still, with tempers like theirs, who knows? _he thought, shaking his head – and, in the process, quite forgetting that _he_ used to have a temper like that once upon a time. 

~ ¤ ~ 

All in all, the night ran very smoothly, and Cordelia mentally chalked it up as yet another "unlost touch". Sonora and Connor had even spent most of the night discussing – and arguing – about different demon races and their qualities. Angel had never before realized how lonely his son might be when it came to friends, and made a mental note to talk to him about it: he also noted that Sonora graced Connor with a smile before she and her father left, which had to mean that even with all the arguing they had become something approaching friends. _Acquaintances, _he corrected himself. _Vampires don't make friends, they make acquaintances._

Cordelia was just about to start clearing the table – with Connor's help – when she suddenly froze in one place, her face a pale, milky white. When she stood like that for several moments without moving, Connor waved his arm in front of her eyes energetically, with no response. 

"Cordelia? Hey, dad, get in here!" Angel was there in half a second, his face a mix of panic and concern. Cordelia didn't look like she was having a vision: she looked more as if she were listening to someone, her eyes unfocused and yet still conscious. 

It lasted for about two minutes, and then she suddenly snapped back into focus. Her face looked puzzled, but calm, so Angel concluded that she hadn't seen anything violent. "So?" He prompted. "Are you going to tell us what happened?" 

"I'm not really sure what happened," Cordelia said thoughtfully. "I mean, one minute I was right here, and the next... It was really strange. I knew I was still standing right here, but I couldn't hear anything other than her voice, and she said..." 

"Who? Whose voice?" But Cordelia just shook her head at Angel. "I don't know. She said she was some sort of guard... No, wait, I've got it. She said her name was Nemesis, and that she guarded the Gates of Time..."

"Gates of time?" Connor was confused. "There are gates of time? Where?" 

Cordelia waved a hand. "I don't _know_. All I know is, she said we were going on some sort of trials – the Trials of Destiny, she called them. She said the four of us would have to face ourselves and win... Or something like that..."

"Wait a minute. _Four_ of us?" 

"Yeah – me, you, Buffy and Spike." Cordelia paused, glancing up. "Do you think they know about it?" 

At that very instant, the phone rang shrilly, the ringing reverberating around the apartment. Angel dashed to the phone and answered it with a curt "Hello?" 

The voice on the other line was instantly recognizable. "Hello? Angel? Sorry to rush in to this, but Willow just had some sort of seizure, and she saw some woman –" there was some murmuring along the other end "– Will says it was a goddess, and she was talking about trials... She mentioned you, and Cordelia, and the Powers That Be, and we figured you guys might know something about it – not that Xander and I aren't hitting the books already – so we decided to call – sorry if we interrupted anything –" 

Angel turned to Cordelia, giving a small half-smile. "They know about it already," he assured her. Then he turned back to the phone. 

"Okay, Buffy, start from the beginning. I have a feeling we're going to need all the information we can get on this one." 

~ ¤ ~ 

**TBC **


	2. Chapter II: The Trials Begin

**Author's Note: **This fic is slightly Alternate Universe, so (in answer to Eledwhen and haz2080's review) Connor is not a "vampire" vampire, but having two vampire parents makes him more vampire than human, in the sense of heritage. In appearance, though, he's mostly human, with a vamp's heightened senses and reflexes. (I don't know if this is true for the TV-series, but this is, like I said, a slightly AU fic, so it doesn't really matter.) 

Going to the Sunnydale perspective, I've already returned Spike from Africa to Sunnydale, and although he and Buffy are not an item anymore, he _does _have a full-fledged new soul, which makes for a slightly (but not very) different Spike altogether – but the catch is, he doesn't _know _he has a soul, so he has no idea why he starts behaving so strangely... 

And Tara's dead, but Oz has returned to take her place as Willow's sweetie. There might be a few storyline-twist-ups here, but let's just call it artistic license, shall we?  

Oh, and Sonora probably _did_ appear too much in the first chapter (tracey, thanks for pointing that out, by the way) but, like I said, I'm a detailoholic and can't help perfecting all of my own characters. But I know that trying to create perfect, flawless characters can be a severe fault as a writer and I'll try to improve on that point. 

And (in answer to Tariq's review) I don't know Wesley's character too well, so I don't think he'll be a feature character in this fic, but I'll try to have some dialogue for him. 

I think that covers most of the review requests (thank you, by the way: it's always great to have some input for a fic – it shows that I did _something _right) so, without further delay, we'll get on with the chapter. 

~ The Trials of Destiny ~

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

**Chapter II: _The Trials Begin _**

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

**Sunnydale, CA**

"Oh my god...." Xander stared at the TV screen, face slack and frozen in something near paralysis. 

"It looks like... Well, it sort of looks like a dance, if you tilt your head at the right angle," Oz commented, tilting his own head to the side. 

Willow popped a crisp into her mouth and gazed at the screen, brow furrowed. "What I don't understand is, where does the cow come in?" 

"No, that's a bull," Dawn said, eyebrows raised, "but I have no idea what it's doing at the wedding."

"That's a wedding? I sort of thought it was a harvest festival." Buffy shrugged, eyes riveted to the TV. "I mean, look, they're all wearing orange... No, wait, there's some guy in white..."

"Oh, he's about to shoot the groom!" Willow cried, drawing her head back in surprise. The sound of gunshots came from the TV, then screaming and a loud, wailing moo --- and then silence. 

"Well, there goes the bull," Dawn said bluntly. Anya shook her head in amazement. "I have no idea what just happened. Can somebody please translate?"

Xander grinned and took a handful of crisps from Willow's packet. "That's the beauty of Indian movies, Anya. You don't understand them, you can't pronounce any of the names or the title and usually the images stay etched in your mind forever." He sighed contentedly. "Hard to beat the classics." 

Oz gave a lopsided smile and raised his hand. "Everyone who thinks that was the last time we let Xander choose the Friday night movie raise their hands." 

"Hey!" Xander protested as the whole group waved their hands simultaneously, "it's not like you guys could pick anything better."

Buffy snorted. "Well, it would be hard to pick anything _worse_." 

Giles came into the room just as the movie ended, carrying an armful of candles, spice bags and assorted bottles and jars, and looking as if it cost him an incredible effort just to keep the pile from toppling over. Oz instantly climbed out of the sofa to give him a hand, while Xander got off the floor to make space for the supplies. 

"Thank you. Willow, are you ready?" Giles and Willow were preparing to perform a spell that would enable them to communicate with the goddess Nemesis. They were hoping to get some solid information from her, because, as Xander so eloquently put it: "This is the Hellmouth. Anything oogie _has_ to be investigated." 

Willow left her seat on the couch and helped Giles set up the supplies, muttering to herself as she did so. She was reciting the words of the spell to make sure she got them right; after her last few encounters with magic – killing Warren in cold blood being one of them – she had become extremely cautious in all her spellcasting. She had been devastated after Tara's death, but gradually her wounds had healed and she had realized that she could once again find happiness with Oz, who had come back to stand by her when she needed him the most. But the memories of her descent to the dark side were still etched in her mind, so she had decided to be especially careful whenever she dealt with Wicca.  

Dawn, Buffy, Anya, Oz and Xander grouped on the couch, watching in fascination as Willow and Giles joined hands, standing in a circle of candles. They had drawn a five-pointed star in chalk inside the circle and were chanting an invocation slowly, their voices flowing with a rich bass tone that was never heard otherwise. 

The chant lasted for about five minutes, when a gauzy shape suddenly began to materialize in the room. Buffy instinctively took a defense stance, ready to fight anything "oogie"; but she relaxed when she saw the welcoming smile on Willow's face. _When Will has that face, _she thought, _things have definitely gone right. _So, eyes fixed on the strange, glowing figure in the middle of the room, she waited. 

The figure became solid, transforming into a tall, regal woman with clouds of white hair an iridescent silver eyes, like ethereal glowing orbs of power. The contours of her shape were slightly blurred, like a figure in an unfocused photograph, and when she spoke her voice was distant and dream-like. 

Everyone in the room was surprised when the figure spoke, not to Willow and Giles, but to Buffy. "Slayer," she said, in a tranquil, almost friendly tone, "it is an honor to finally come face to face with you." And with that, she inclined her head gracefully in a half-bow. 

Giles coughed uncertainly. "And you are the goddess Nemesis? The one who sent Willow her vision?" 

Nemesis smiled appreciatively. "I am indeed. And, although the one you call Willow was responsible for passing on my message, it is the Slayer I have come to see. The Powers That Be wish her to be tested along with the undead formerly known as William the Bloody." She smiled again, looking slightly brisker, more businesslike. "They are expected, and I cannot keep my masters waiting." 

"And what if I don't want go?" Buffy asked sharply. "What if Spike doesn't want to go?" 

Nemesis' expression did not change. "That, my dear, will not be a problem."  
"Oh yeah? And why's that?" 

"Because the Powers have complete control over your fates. You will be tested, or you will perish. The choice is yours to make." Nemesis waited easily while Buffy glanced sideways at Oz and Xander, who nodded, and at Dawn, who shrugged and then looked down at the floor. She took a deep breath and turned abruptly. "Giles, you'll take care of Dawn while I'm gone?"

Giles nodded, swallowing whatever protests he had been about to make. Buffy knew what was best for herself, and along with that, best for the rest of the world. "Of course."

"Will, Xander, Oz, Anya – you guys'll cover the slayage?" She didn't even have to ask: all four nodded, and Xander even smiled confidently. "We've done it before, right? So we can do it again." 

Buffy forced a smile. "Knew I could count on you." Then she hugged Dawn, briefly. "Take care of yourself," she whispered mildly, and her sister nodded, taking Willow's hand.  

"All set, then. Let's go." 

Willow couldn't help remembering afterwards how very strange it had been. No smoke, no glitter, no crying or surprised faces or sudden outbursts. One minute Buffy was there, then the next she was whisked into thin air and gone without a trace of ever having been there. Everybody stood in silence for a minute, then drifted off to find something else to do, trying to ignore the strangeness of it all. 

After all, they lived on the Hellmouth – strangeness was something they were used to. 

_~ ¤ ~ _

Connor was beyond confusion._ If there was another word for "huh?", it would probably be my motto right about now._

In Angel's living room there stood a strange woman – some sort of deity or spirit or something in that direction – and she was talking to his father and Cordelia about being tested and traveling between worlds... Connor was having a hard time taking it in, but one thing he understood for sure. 

He wasn't liking it. 

"And what about Connor?" Angel asked, cutting Nemesis' explanation short. "What happens to him once me and Cordelia are gone?" 

Nemesis smiled patiently. "Your son will stay here. Who takes care of him is entirely up to you." 

Angel looked at Connor, his face pensive and worried. "You could always stay with Fred and Gunn... Or – or even Wesley..." He said the last part reluctantly, as if he wished there was some other option. 

But Connor shook his head firmly. "No. I want to be close by, so I can be here when you come back. Besides," drawing his head up confidently, "I can take care of myself. I'm almost seventeen already, so no problems on that score." 

Cordelia looked as if a thought had suddenly struck her. "You can't stay on your own – I mean, you're hardly adjusted to this place – but you can stay close by. We could ask the Parkers to let you stay with them for a while –"

But Connor shook his head violently. "No way!" He'd rather stay alone than with complete strangers. 

Cordelia sighed and turned to Angel instead, shrugging helplessly. "It's the only option we've got." 

Angel nodded, looking relieved. "Yes. Curtis will probably be able to keep an eye on him while... while we're away." Connor was about to protest heartily when his father gave him a piercing look, stopping him in mid-word. "You stay with Curtis, period. Fred and Gunn will check in on you from time to time, and you'll be able to get by until Cordelia and I return. When Sonora goes back to school in a week, you'll go with her –" Angel ignored Connor's loud groan "- and stay out of trouble that way. Explain everything to them and tell Curtis I'll repay him when we get back." 

_He said "'when' we get back", _Connor noted, with relief. _Not 'if'. _

_Not "if." _  

He was silent, unmoving, when Angel and Cordelia took their places on either side of Nemesis, and mustered a smile and a would-be-cheerful goodbye for them in the few minutes before they left. He did not move when they melted into air and disappeared. He even remained silent and still – almost paralyzed - several moments after they'd gone. 

Then he finally forced himself into his new bedroom, flopped onto the bed, still fully clothed, and meticulously inspected the ceiling, his eyes searching for cracks or smudges – anything he could concentrate on besides his whirling thoughts. 

There was nothing. It was completely blank, a bland white color that gaped back at him, making his eyes sting. 

_Completely blank. _

_~ ¤ ~ _

"Stay the bloody hell away from me!" Spike's voice was a low, warning growl, coming from a mouth now armed with vicious fangs. His eyes, now the feral yellow of a vampire in full hunt mode, blazed with smoldering anger and acute suspicion. 

Nemesis tilted her head and smiled, as calmly as she always did. "At least the Slayer and the Angelic One were willing to accompany me. You, I see now, will need some persuasion." She sighed and tipped her staff forward so that it was facing Spike. Then she waited, almost idly, while a throbbing aura of power collected around the opal set in the golden staff and started to erupt from the gem, like water gushing from a tap. 

Spike watched, mesmerized, as the aura wrapped itself around him, froze his body with one quick ripple and started to melt into air, taking him with it...

 _Hold on just one bloody minute. Taking me _where_?! _

But struggling – which Spike took to doing with a vengeance - had no effect whatsoever on the staff's power, and it continued to break down Spike's molecules, removing them to another time and place – another dimension altogether, while he tried vainly to shake it off, or scratch it away, or do _anything_ at all that would get it off of him. 

"Really, the struggling isn't necessary," Nemesis' tranquil voice called, from across an empty void. She was already on the other side, waiting for the staff to bring Spike to her. "It'll only waste valuable time, child." 

Spike growled, eyes flashing. _No one _had called him "child" in over a hundred and twenty-two years, and he wasn't about to let some freaky witch-woman start with it now. Once his feet touched solid ground again, he swung round ferociously, perfectly ready to tear Nemesis' throat out –-- 

except it wasn't Nemesis that he saw first. 

_"Slayer?" _Spike was dumbstruck, appalled. He was even more appalled when he saw who was standing next to her. "What is this, some sort of bloody family reunion?" 

"Hello, Spike." Angel's voice was icily frigid and ever so slightly hostile. Cordelia just nodded at Spike, seeming slightly dazed, and slipped her hand through Angel's on a nervous impulse. 

"Where the hell are we, and what are we doing here?" Spike didn't try to change his features back to normal, knowing that it annoyed Angel to see his vampiric face, since it reminded him so strongly of his own.  

"Seems like you didn't get the supernatural memo, Spike," Buffy said casually, tucking back her honey-blond hair. "The truth is, we're going to be here for quite a while." She shrugged, inspecting her fingernails. "In fact, we might never get out at all. There _is _a serious risk-factor involved in this, right?" She turned to Nemesis, looking almost bored with the prospect. 

"What risk factor? I didn't come here to die!" Cordelia was starting to sound slightly panicked, and Angel pressed her hand reassuringly. Unfortunately, Buffy saw the move and her face became even more indifferent, even more closed in and confident. 

"I've already died twice," she said lazily, "and honestly, three times would be too much even for me." 

Spike was both amazed and puzzled. Buffy was acting as though she couldn't wait to get it over with - whatever it now was they were there for – and somehow she had turned... different. _Cocky. _And then he started wondering why the hell he would notice – _If the slayer wants to go on one of her power trips, she can go ahead. I don't give a bloomin' damn. I just wanna get out of here. _

"Here" seemed very much like ordinary landscape – hills in the distance, grass waving gently in the wind, tall dark trees – when Spike suddenly noticed the sky. It was a pale, watery yellow, like someone had covered the sky in yellow paint and let it wash over the blue in an uneven, blotched layer, turning green in some places. 

But that wasn't the strangest part. It took Spike's mind a while to confirm it as a solid fact, but he gradually came to realize that he was staring right at the sun – a vast, blazing sun, ten times larger than the Earth's, wreathed in brilliant blue flame. 

It was a strange sun, an alien sun – _and a sun that won't fry me into an extra-crispy Happy Vamp Meal. _Inwardly, Spike rejoiced; outwardly, he still demanded an explanation. Nemesis provided that explanation, calmly repeating what she had told Angel, Cordelia and Buffy and pausing patiently whenever Spike took the liberty to swear and utter various muttered comments, none of them by any means complimentary.  

"So let me get this straight. Somewhere out there, in a different dimension, there is another version of me –"

" – several other versions, actually," Cordelia interrupted. 

" – several other versions," Spike repeated impatiently, "and one of those versions might actually be stronger than I am. So I'm supposed to fight these other versions, save the worlds they live in from whatever mess they've fallen into, and if I manage to win over all of them I get to come back home, but if I don't I'm pretty much left to die while one of them takes my place." He stopped, running a hand through his platinum hair. "Now, where is the part where I can just say _no bloody way _and walk the hell away from here?"

Nemesis' only response to that was a smile. "Ah, but you left out a very important part. The Trials of Destiny do not only revolve around you." 

Nemesis slashed her staff vertically across the air four times, and four doors materialized in front of her. The doors were carved in dark stone, and they all had a different emblem and design to them. One was black, with the carved image of an angel, one was a deep gold and embossed with an image of a sword underneath a shining sun, one was grey-blue and had an eye set in a triangle engraved on it, and the last was a deep crimson and held the image of a black dove with a blade through its heart. 

"You will travel through most of the worlds together, but when you encounter these doors, you are to enter through them _alone._ Behind each door will be a challenge that you must face, and each of you must be ready to do this on your own. If one of you does not emerge from the door he or she has entered, it means that your battle has been lost and the others will have to move on without you." 

There was a tense silence, during which Nemesis again smiled, her tranquil look unchanged. "But these doors," she indicated the four lined up next to her, "are not challenges. Behind them are your trial consorts.

"These consorts are the ones you were ultimately meant to have – the ones destiny chose for you – had your lives not changed they way they have. They will travel with you as companions, and eventually they will have to choose between keeping you alive and keeping alive the consorts they had in their home realities. So, ultimately, your lives are in their hands. They must deem you worthy of survival before you can return home." 

Buffy's hands were clenched so hard her knuckles were turning white. "So... Whoever's behind that door is our true love? The ones we were meant to spend eternity with?" She didn't even turn to Angel, didn't even glance at him, but somehow he instinctively felt she was talking about him. 

"They will be different from how you used to know them, but yes," Nemesis said, "they are who my masters chose for you from the beginning." 

Spike eyed the doors, then turned and grinned at the group, flashing an impressive set of fangs. "So, who wants to be the lucky one and go first?" When no one answered, he shrugged. "No volunteers? Well then, I guess I might as well just bloomin' go for it." 

He darted forward, wrenched at the crimson door and flung it open. 

He froze, his already waxy skin turning a ghastly white, his face shocked. He couldn't believe it. _It can't be... There's some sort of mistake... _

But there was no mistaking her, mistaking that face with its fresh beauty and childish innocence. There was no mistaking the spark of recognition that lit her large violet eyes and the sweet smile on her face - a small, petite face framed with dark mahogany curls - a familiar face, like the face of a long-lost friend. 

"_William?" _She looked amazed, her hands clasped in startled joy. She even reached out to touch the now-human face, (Spike having returned to normal features in his surprise) only shocking Spike even further into silence. 

Spike could hardly force out the name, but it finally escaped him in something barely above a whisper. "_Sarah..."_

When a stony silence ensued, not even Nemesis ventured to break it. But finally, Buffy raised her hand falteringly. "Okay, let me be the first to say it...

"_What the hell is going on here?"       _

**TBC... **

_~ ¤ ~_

**Author's Note: **Okay, "Sarah" is not an original character – I saw her on an episode of _Buffy_ when they showed exactly what happened when William was turned into Spike. I can't remember the name of the episode, but I _can_ remember a girl who William read poetry to, and was promptly snubbed by, which caused him to run away and stumble into Drusilla, Angel and Darla. "Sarah" is probably not even her real name, but I'm trying to find out her real name, or else find a more suitable name to give her. 

Anyway, as always, reviews are welcome. 

Oh, and I uploaded this in a hurry, so please forgive any spelling mistakes or typos. 


	3. Chapter III: Straight out of a Horror Mo...

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Mel, Sigma, Tariq, Echidne and Jyestha and Jason I now know that "Sarah" is actually Cecily, so that's what her name will be from now on (it was really great of you to tell me that, by the way). All the rest of the trial consorts are coming in to this chapter, and none of them are original characters, although some might not be recognizable to people who are new to _Angel_ or _Buffy_.

And, since Jason took the time to give such a very scrupulous review, I'll make sure to give a scrupulous answer: 

1. Like it says above, I was sort of already informed about Sarah being Cecily, but thanks anyway. 

2. Well, when Angel was given a soul, it was meant to make him suffer. In this fic (which, I have to stress, is _Alternate Universe_) Spike's soul was given as a gift, of sorts. He has already started to alter his violent ways for Buffy's sake, but having a soul is a new experience and not something he can detect easily. And besides, I think gradually discovering his new soul will be a lot better from a literary point of view than just throwing it in there.

3. The Powers That Be have to place an ultimatum on the "champions" for their own safety and for the safety of all the living worlds. And besides, knowing that the results of _not _going through the Trials could be disastrous, I doubt that any of our heroes would refuse the PTB. 

And, last but not least: if all alternate forms of the "champions" were allowed to exist at once, it would result in something very much like a planetary overload. For example: if there was only one alternate form for every person who lived on Earth, nothing would change within the living worlds, because Nemesis and the Powers could handle them very easily. But if, say, twenty new forms were created for Buffy, Angel, Cordelia and Spike every day, it would result in alternate forms who would end up being faster, smarter, tougher and overall better than them. If it had been anybody else, I doubt the Powers would have bothered, but since they are the ones meant to protect the Earth, having a stronger alternate form running around could be dangerous. 

In fighting their alternate forms, the "champions" will prove that they're stronger than them, and therefore be allowed to stay on Earth – unless, of course, an alternate form proves to be stronger, in which case the existing forms will be replaced. 

And for Snuffles (which, by the way, is a very expressive name) I'm just going to say that Buffy's change in attitude is based on hurt at seeing Cordelia and Angel together: it's easier to wear a tough mask to hide her emotions than it is to let them show.  

Hopefully, that covers any other questions that might have arisen concerning the storyline, but if there is anything else that seems unclear or confusing, feel free to ask about it. 

And of course, I just _have_ to thank everyone who took the time to review. It really means a lot to me and your suggestions are helping me develop the storyline, so I just wanted to say that I really appreciate it. 

And now, fellow fanfictioners, having finished with all that, we'll get on with the story...

~ The Trials of Destiny ~

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

**Chapter III: _Straight out of a Horror Movie _**

~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~~¤~

_"William? _My William?_" _Her voice, so familiar. Her face, so very unchanged – and yet so unlike the face he remembered. Gone was the look of cold refinement she used to give him, gone was the tight, curt tone in her voice – all that was left was a warmth he had dreamed of seeing so many years ago, a warmth that went deeper than just polite or friendly. 

But, before she could say anything else, Nemesis put a gentle hand on her shoulder and shook her head. "No, not your William. Not the way you know him, child."

Cecily froze, the smile on her face fading, and nodded sadly. The light in her large eyes was suddenly quenched and she stood there, awkwardly, not knowing where to look or what to do with her hands. 

Spike turned to Nemesis, too stricken to speak. But the centuries-old goddess understood, and answered him with a look that almost resembled pity. "In Cecily's world, your history changed itself. She accepted you as you were, and, consequently, you never met Drusilla."

"That means he was never turned," Angel said thoughtfully. "He never became Spike."

"Yes. My William and I – we've been engaged for two years now." Cecily fingered the ring on her right hand, smiling wistfully. "We were going to be married in December, just so we could have our wedding outside, in the snow."  

"Engaged?" Spike croaked, finally finding his voice. _"Wedding?" _A thousand thoughts were raging inside his head, a thousand questions waiting to be answered – but all he could do was stare, transfixed, at the silver ring twinkling from Cecily's finger, set with a band of bright blue gems. "Not bloody likely!"

Cecily looked startled, but bit back whatever she was about to say and cast her eyes to the ground, shrugging. "You were right," she said quietly, glancing at Nemesis. "He's _not _my William." 

"Um, excuse me, Nemesis? If we can move away from Spike's issues for a moment here, I have a question." Cordelia stepped forward and surveyed the doors. "Which door is mine?" 

Nemesis simply smiled. "You already know which one is yours." She moved aside and allowed Cordelia to walk up to the gray-blue door. She hesitated, staring at the eye-triangle on the door, before carefully easing it open and stepping back. 

There was a pause, while a person stepped out of the door. A silence, while everyone present surveyed him. Buffy's face was one of mixed amazement and pleased surprise, Spike, despite his shock, couldn't help grinning maliciously, Angel's eyebrows shot up until they couldn't go any higher and Cordelia stared, dumbfounded. Before them, waiting with an amiable and slightly confused smile on his face, was...

"Xander!" 

"Actually," the alternate Xander corrected, "it's Alexander LaVelle Harris." He smiled, pleasantly but coolly. "No one calls me Xander anymore." 

And indeed, if it weren't for the resemblance in their faces, no one there would have recognized him as Xander. He carried himself differently from the gangly, casually messy joker from Sunnydale, he was dressed in a spotless, expensive-looking two-piece slate gray suit and silk tie, his hair was combed back thoroughly, and he exuded confidence and professionalism, something the real Xander rarely expressed. Cordelia also noticed a shining gold ring on the finger of his left hand and groaned audibly. 

"Please, _do not _tell me I am married to Xander Harris!" She pleaded, turning on Nemesis. 

"For about seven years now," Alternate Xander supplied helpfully. "Although Troy – oh, sorry, our son - is only about five years old." He looked as though he were trying to remember something. "I think it's his birthday tomorrow – or maybe it was next week?" 

"Oh my god." Cordelia's face was bleak, and Buffy noticed that her hand was trembling ever so slightly. "_Oh my god. _I have a son. No, correction, I have _two _sons." She groaned again and buried her head in her hands. Buffy raised an eyebrow. _Two sons? What does she mean by that? _

But she was distracted by a movement from Angel, who had suddenly walked up to his door and was staring it with several peculiar expressions flickering across his face. He reached out and ran his hand along the carved angel set on the door, seeming wholly absorbed in it. It cost him an enormous effort just to tear his eyes away from the door long enough to glance at Nemesis, who barely had time to nod assertively before Angel tore the door open. 

Buffy knew, from the look on his face, that he already had known who was going to step out of the door. And he did more than just look. As soon as she emerged, he wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace, hardly seeming to care that anyone else was watching. 

The blonde woman in his arms smiled, tilting her head back to look into his face. There was a silence while they studied each other, eyes locked in a gaze that few would have cared to break. 

Buffy and Cordelia, strangely, were having very different and yet very similar reactions to the scenario. Buffy's face was expressionless and stony, and only her eyes betrayed her emotions. Cordelia looked shocked and then hurt before trying to seem indifferent and failing utterly, resulting in a few glistening tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes before she brushed them away furiously. 

The woman looked past Angel's shoulder, her eyes lingering first on Buffy, then on Cordelia, and lastly settling on Spike before returning to Angel's face. 

"Angel?" Darla's voice was a lilting half-whisper. "Who are all these people?" 

"They're friends of mine," Angel answered, his voice softening. "Didn't I tell you?" 

Darla shook her head and then rested it lightly on his shoulder. "No. But I'm tired," she whispered. "You can introduce them later." Then she sighed, frowning slightly. "I haven't been able to drink anything for ages. I'm thirsty."

Angel threw Nemesis a startled glance, but the Guardian shook her head, smiling. "She wants water, not blood." 

Angel laughed and pushed back Darla's golden hair from her forehead. "Don't worry, we'll soon find you something to drink." Darla just nodded and allowed herself to be led to a large boulder, where she and Angel sat side-by-side, talking in intimate whispers. 

Buffy ignored them and walked straight up to the golden door. Her hand hesitated only for a fraction of a second before pulling the door open and she stood back uncertainly, not knowing what to expect. 

And, certainly, she didn't expect _him_, of all people. 

He looked almost unchanged from the way she remembered him. Slightly older, maybe, but still the same tall, lean figure, dark chestnut hair and radiant hazel eyes, set in face that indicated intelligence and a highly developed sense of humor, balanced by a pondering look in his eyes. _All in all, I'd say he's a real honey_. 

"Buffy?" He grinned, crossed the distance between them into two strides and, unabashed, drew her into a kiss. Buffy was startled but pleased, and there was a warm, if slightly confused, smile on her face. It didn't take her two guesses to figure it out. 

"Scott – Scott Hope! Of all people, I would never have expected _you._" She stepped back to survey him, nodding approvingly. "But hey, I'm not complaining." 

Scott grinned. "Mmm, neither am I. Still though, I would've thought you'd be a little heavier by now – what with the slaying and all." 

Buffy arched an eyebrow. "He knows?" Of course, the question was directed at Nemesis. 

"Yes, Slayer, he knows. In Scott's reality, Angel never returned from Hell, and you continued your relationship, ultimately ending in his finding out about your calling." 

Buffy grinned. "Oh yeah; I can definitely get used to having you around." _Not _too _used to it, though, _she mentally reminded herself. 

Nemesis allowed the group a few more moments to get reacquainted with each other before bringing them together to address them one final time. Behind her was a shimmering oval portal, completely black and looking like a smooth, dark mirror hanging off of the ground. 

"This," Nemesis indicated the portal, "is a dimensional portal. It will take you from one dimension to the other, enabling you to travel faster through the living worlds. In every dimensional plane there will be a challenge for each of you, and when you have finished you move on to the next plane."

"Sort of like a videogame," Xander offered. "Finish one level, move on the next."

"Exactly." Nemesis turned her attention on Cecily, Scott, Xander and Darla. "All of you have been informed about the Trials of Destiny. You know what you must do when the time comes." All four nodded assertion, although Darla and Scott looked uneasy.

"So, how many dimensions are there before we reach the finish line?" Buffy asked. Nemesis simply gestured towards the portal. "It depends on how well you do, Slayer. There may only be five dimensions, or there may be five hundred. It all depends on you." 

"And what about food and stuff?" Cordelia quipped. "We're not going to starve while doing this, are we?"

"In every dimension there will be some means of food and drink. If you look closely enough, you will find all you need to survive. And since Earthling vampires can only be hurt by the Earth's sun," Nemesis added, somehow reading the expression on Spike's face, "you won't have to worry about hiding from daylight while you are traveling." 

"Well, then, I'm all for it. Let's go." Buffy moved forward and confidently strode through the portal, which liquefied for a second to let her in. Scott immediately followed, and Cordelia, without bothering to look back for Xander, stepped through after him. Xander sprinted through the portal to catch up to the others, leaving Spike, Cecily, Darla and Angel behind. 

Angel put an arm around Darla's shoulders and steered her through the door, and Spike plunged in after them, pulling Cecily along with him. 

~ ¤ ~

"Oh my f***ing stars and garters." Spike, to put it mildly, was having a hard time believing his eyes. He stood, with the others, on the edge of a vast, barren landscape of rock and dust – an unbroken grayness that ended in a line of tall, rugged black mountains that tore the sky apart with the frequent plumes of fire that erupted from their peaks. Scattered across the landscape were large pools of boiling molten lava that radiated intense heat, even from several feet away. The sky itself was a deep, monotonous gray, with cracks of crimson that bled across it and met in the middle of the sky to form a pair of vast crimson suns, one slightly smaller than the other. The suns seemed to emit some sort of heat, but were not actually made of flame as far as anyone could see and didn't give off any light, leaving the landscape even dimmer and more depressing. 

"Yeah, you could say that again." Buffy shivered slightly and took Scott's hand, strangely comforted to know he was there. Their relationship in Sunnydale had been extremely short-lived, but she had, in the past years, come to wonder once or twice what would have happened if she hadn't broken up with the gorgeous high school students who used to be so crazy about her. _Now I don't have to wonder any more. _

Angel took an unneeded breath to analyze the air, using his heightened sense of smell. The air was hot and dusty, filled with the strong scent of fire and smoke; nothing very alarming, considering their surroundings, but not exactly very pleasant either. 

"We should stay away from the lava pools," he advised, his dark eyes scanning the horizon. "The fumes they give off could be poisonous." He didn't look too worried about it for his own sake, but Buffy could tell he was concerned about Darla.  

"I, for one, totally agree on that point," Xander put in, eyeing the nearest lava pool. He watched the seething lava suddenly froth up and form an enormous bubble that burst with a sickening slurp and gave off a pungent odor. Cordelia wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Oh, I am _so _not loving this." 

"Join the club," Spike muttered, casting a sideways glance at Cecily. But she was busy squinting off into the distance, her eyes focused on a point some five hundred feet away from where they were standing. "Is it just me," she said slowly, in a delicate British accent Spike found familiar, "or is there something moving out there?" 

Darla tilted her head, staring off into the distance. "No, I see it as well," she confirmed. "But I'm not sure what it is." 

Soon everyone was gazing at the large, unidentifiable object that seemed to be heading in their direction. A cloud of dust surrounded it, so that at first it was unrecognizable; but it soon turned out to be some sort of huge vehicle, resembling a van or a bus. It was built out of heavy dark metal and had large, razor-sharp iron spikes set along the outside of it; there were no detectable windows on it, but it was being maneuvered somehow or other – and being maneuvered very well, obviously, because it was heading straight towards the group at an incredible speed. 

"Okay, can I be the first to suggest that we run?" Xander spoke up, staring at the sharp metal spikes on the van. _Those things are large enough to impale any of us in a second_, he thought, suddenly unnerved.  

"Running now?" Scott suggested, glancing at Buffy. 

"Running now sounds like a good plan," Buffy agreed. Almost simultaneously, the whole group turned and began to sprint in the opposite direction of the van – even Cecily and Darla, who both had to pick up the skirts of their gowns in order to run. Angel, Buffy, Spike and Cordelia were all unaccustomed to running away from anything, but they couldn't risk putting the others in danger. _And on the other hand, _Buffy thought to herself, _we fight demons and vamps, not giant batmobiles with teeth. _

To everyone's dismay, Spike – after glancing back – announced that the "schoolbus form hell" was still following them, and, as he pointed out helpfully, would probably end up catching up to them and crushing them all to a pulp. 

"We have to spread out!" Buffy called, making a swiping motion with her arms. "Make it harder for it to track us!" 

They fanned out evenly in pairs, all heading in the same direction so as not to lose each other but continually increasing the space between them. The vehicle kept going, honing in on the two closest people – Angel and Darla. Angel wasn't having any troubles in matching and exceeding the vehicle's speed, but Darla's face was starting to look tight and strained, and her breathing was coming in short, painful gasps. 

"Darla? Are you alright?" Angel called, taking her hand to help her keep up with him. Darla simply nodded and continued to sprint over the rocky landscape. Finally, though, she had to admit she was tiring quickly. "I don't think I can run much further," she said, casting a fearful glance backwards, only to find that the vehicle was fast closing in on them. 

"Uh-oh." Xander let his pace slacken, staring ahead of him with a face that did not bode good. 

"Uh-oh? What do you mean, uh-oh?" Cordelia demanded. But soon she saw very clearly what he meant. 

"Well, people, looks like we got ourselves some trouble." Spike slowed down until he was level with others. "It's at times like these that I appreciate a good smoke." And, seemingly undisturbed, he drew a cigarette from the back pocket of his leather pants and lit it, taking a long drag. Cecily looked disgusted, but was too worried about the immediate danger to say anything about it. 

"I don't like the look of this," Buffy said grimly. Even Angel and Darla, who had pulled in last, saw what was wrong. The vehicle was fast closing in on the group, and they should have been running for their lives – except there was nowhere to run. 

The ground broke off suddenly and ended in a vast ocean of molten lava, larger than all of the other lava pools put together. The lava was steaming and hissing, flowing from a mountain of black rock that was wreathed in heavy smoke. Wheeling around the mountain's peak were large bird-like creatures, wholly black with cruel crimson talons, hooked beaks and slit-like crimson eyes that seemed fixed on the group below. 

"Those things look hungry," Scott commented, tilting his head back to watch the bird-creatures circle closer. Cordelia jumped back from the lava ocean when it suddenly spurted at her and unexpectedly took shelter next to Xander, clinging to his arm. "Oh, god," she whimpered, "it's like something straight out of a horror movie." 

Spike took another drag on his cigarette and threw it into the lava, watching it sink below the surface with loud sizzling sound. "The way I see it," he drawled, "we have quite a choice here –"

"Do we want to be eaten, impaled or burned to death?"

~ ¤ ~

**To Be Continued.**


End file.
